


lacking pain or passion

by closeteds



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Angst, Canon Trans Character, Coming Out, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Slow Dancing, Soulmates, david is a hopeless romantic :/, sappy david
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closeteds/pseuds/closeteds
Summary: David had wanted to be in love since he was a little kid. Attempting to keep himself from falling in love with Matteo was going to be difficult, then.or david & matteo get together a bit earlier than canon & david struggles with insecurities of his past





	lacking pain or passion

There were certain things David couldn’t say out loud. Saying it meant it was real, or that it could be real. The trouble with David was that no matter how much he wanted something to be real, he would convince himself that it was better if it stayed in his head. In his dreams and in his art. So he drew. Drawing wasn’t the same as saying it out loud. Art was still beyond the material world, in his eyes, at least. For David, drawing was the second best thing to the real thing. 

Sometimes he would write what he couldn’t say out loud underneath his sketches. Always of The Boy. His boy. Matteo.

_You came to me when I needed it most. _

_You make me feel how music makes me feel._

_You are home._

\-- 

David had never kept a steady journal, but he was beginning to consider it, just so that he could record his interactions with Matteo in words. Not that he was particularly good with words, but… he didn’t want to forget anything. He wanted to be able to come back to the little things, like when he’d first noticed Matteo that day in the school hallway, and he took one look at his soft, oversized patterned jacket and pants that obviously didn’t fit and eyes that were impossibly sad and beautiful, and it felt like his brain had short-circuited. He wanted to cherish these moments as much as he could, be able to hold a book full of them close to his heart.

If he was being honest with himself, David had wanted to be in love since he was a little kid. He remembered that at twelve years old, his favorite movie was Moonrise Kingdom, and he’d fantasized about running away to get married to the love of his life, knowing it was unrealistic and pretty much impossible, both for him and, to his adolescent dismay, for the two heroes of the film. Romance became his hyperfixation for a time. He wanted to become infatuated with someone, _anyone_… But at the same time, he’d never been able to bring himself to really believe he could be the type of person that someone could fall in love with. 

Attempting to keep himself from falling in love with Matteo was going to be difficult, then. 

Seeing Matteo in the hallway for the first time had felt like an awakening. David remembered his breath had caught along with his heartbeat, his stomach was tingling like there was something to be excited about, and he couldn’t get that face out of his head for the next four days. _That face._ He remembered thinking Matteo was like one of those boys you saw in films, the ones people secretly fawned over. It made him a little dizzy.

And then the boy fit to be a movie star introduced himself to David, and now there was a name he could attach to that face. The whole time they talked and smoked, David tried and failed to avoid looking into the deep, clear blue of Matteo’s eyes.

Matteo looked at him like they shared a secret. David would catch him staring across the room sometimes, and most times, Matteo looked away almost immediately while David’s eyes lingered. But sometimes, Matteo held eye contact and smiled like there was an inside joke between them that no one else in the room knew. The way he looked at David freaked him out in a good and scary way. 

He’d look away eventually while Matteo’s eyes lingered.

It didn’t make any sense. _Why me???? A cute boy likes me?? Not possible._ David thought Matteo was a lot bolder than he was. And by that he meant that, since currently the extent of their relationship was staring at each other and stumbling over their words during any interaction, Matteo’s gaze was more searching, more inquisitive, like he was seeing right through him. Like he was looking at David like that on purpose.

\-- 

David knew it was a risk going to Matteo’s apartment, but really, how could he say no? This was what he told himself, over and over again whenever he grew uncertain, until Matteo invited him into his room and he froze. He left in a rush when Matteo left him alone, before he could convince himself otherwise. 

It was an even bigger risk, however, going to a _party_ at Matteo’s apartment. It wasn’t David’s first high school party; he knew how these usually went. Most of the time, he ended up hiding in someone’s bathroom at high school parties. He was cautious, though in the back of his mind, he knew this school was different somehow. Half of him hoped he wouldn’t encounter Matteo, while the other half wished he would. His few friends from school and Laura, who he’d begged to join him, unexpectedly created a wall between him and Matteo, because he almost didn’t see him all night. It was almost like he was hiding.

Almost.

It bothered David a little that Matteo didn’t know how he felt about him. He felt a lot. Oh boy, did he feel a lot.

This time, David stayed. He waited until the boy emerged from his bedroom and he knew Matteo was okay, and he listened. Their voices were just above a whisper. He felt them moving closer.

Matteo was barely meeting David’s eyes. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend…”

_You’re kidding. Matteo._

“Do you mean Laura? Laura is my sister.” _I only have eyes for you, idiot._

They didn’t break eye contact. David’s mind was racing. _What if I just let myself feel? What if I don’t stop myself?_ Matteo’s gaze shifted from David’s eyes to his lips.

The kiss was perfect. Matteo melted into it, reaching up to touch David’s face and draping an arm around his neck. David was thinking he could die right then and there and die a sweet death.

He thought about kissing Matteo all night when he eventually went home, replaying it in his head. He sketched multiple angles of Matteo’s eyes, the curve of his jaw. He wrote his name over and over on the edges of his sketchbook, looping the letters with even more flourish each time. He closed his eyes and buried himself in his sheets and dreamed of being held by his impossible boy.

\-- 

_Shedding the corporeal form_. It was written in David’s sketchbook, right under the drawing of what Matteo called “skeleton David.” A fleshed-out David, a raw David: the David he craved to be. He wanted to be able to show all of himself to Matteo, to the world. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to. 

Life would be better if he didn’t have a body and he could speak without a voice.

\-- 

His parents used to yell at him almost every night. Always at night. It was when David was the most clumsy, when he knew they were watching him. He would say something wrong at dinner or forget to help his mother clear the table, and his father would just explode. To David, it was like they were listing off everything wrong with him each time he messed up. And he remembered thinking to himself, _Keep it coming._ He wanted to know every single thing the world hated about him so he could fix it. Or accentuate it, just to spite them. 

Sometimes, though, he would grow tired of it. He was exhausted. He would interrupt them, snapping, “All right, okay. Fine. I won’t fuck up again.” 

They never hit him. He didn’t think they could live with themselves if they ever hurt him physically. But the looks on their faces when he disappointed them made it clear how they felt about him. That was all he could do for them: disappoint. 

He’d leave the room, unable to bare their eyes boring into him like stones, and close his bedroom door, gently, gently--just to irritate them, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of an outburst. He’d blast Radiohead in his headphones until his head spun and he saw stars, or he’d rewatch yet another Wes Anderson film on his laptop, curled up on the floor and surrounded by pillows, occasionally losing himself in a daydream and having to rewind to catch the dialogue. It depended on the night. It was these types of nights David felt the most alone and the most alive, acutely aware of just how human he was. 

\-- 

“What are you thinking?”

They were lying on the floor of David’s bedroom. Matteo’s hand was in David’s hair, and David felt like Matteo could somehow see his thoughts by touching his fingertips to his scalp. His head was on Matteo’s chest, and he’d been carefully tracing nonsensical shapes across his stomach with three fingers, his tongue between his teeth. Matteo had complained, the first time they’d cuddled on David’s carpet instead of under his sheets, but David liked lying on the floor. He felt it kept him grounded. And, if he was being honest, even though he trusted Matteo, he was scared of what could happen if they stayed in bed, under the covers, where he couldn’t see.

“I was thinking...your chest makes for a good pillow,” said David.

Matteo giggled, ruffling his hair. “Well, thank you. Your floor makes for a shitty bed.”

David rolled his eyes and tickled Matteo’s stomach. Matteo yelped in response, squirming in a fit of giggles. He groaned when David finally stopped, and David planted a kiss on his cheek in apology.

“I’m sorry. You know I wish I liked lying in bed with another person. It hasn’t brought me much luck when Laura and I have had to share a bed.”

Matteo sighed and nodded, still pouting. “I know, I know. You said it makes you feel ‘trapped.’ Which is the same as how I feel when I’m being tickled.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s not a good thing, Schreibner.”

“Matteo is super ticklish. Got it. I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled softly.

“It’s not funny either,” Matteo mumbled. “And I still don’t understand why sharing a bed could make you feel like that.”

David hesitated, a lump growing in his throat. “Maybe one day you will.”

“Maybe I will.” He wrapped his arms tighter around David’s body, and David tensed up a bit but relaxed when Matteo’s grip softened.

They laid there in comfortable silence and David was thinking he could stay here until the end of the days if the universe let him. 

“I want this to last forever,” he whispered, his eyes closing on their own accord, his hand relaxing on Matteo’s waist.

He felt Matteo kiss his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his eyelashes, softly, softly. It felt like a dream. David couldn’t believe it. He felt his eyelashes getting wet, and Matteo took his chin in his hand, lifting it up to meet his face. He opened his eyes.

“Hey.” Matteo smiled. It was impossible, the way Matteo looked at him. “This will last forever. I swear it will.” And David knew that what he was talking about was something bigger. It scared him.

They kissed for what felt like an eternity. David wished he could spend an eternity lying on the floor with this perfect boy. Being with Matteo felt like a dream he didn’t want to ever end.

\-- 

He didn’t know what it was, but for some reason, David became enamored of Matteo’s hands. Maybe it was an artist thing. He would take Matteo’s hand and put it in his hair or on his shoulder while they danced in his living room, and Matteo would laugh. 

“Baaby,” he’d tease, and David would squeeze his fingers.

“Shut up.”

They’d slow dance for hours. It became their thing, especially when Matteo came over to his place rather than the other way around. David’s living room was Matteo’s favorite place to dance. One evening when Laura had gone to bake bread at her girlfriend’s house, David put on one of his favorite vinyl records, a gift from his godmother, a collection of greatest hits by Paul Anka. “Put Your Head on My Shoulder” crackled through the record player, and David offered his hand to Matteo, who had been reclining in the old maroon armchair. Matteo grinned, took his hand, and they danced, and David felt like his feet would lift off the ground if Matteo wasn’t holding him down. 

He buried his face in the crook of Matteo’s neck and whispered. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

“Yeah.” Matteo’s voice was breathless. “I want to do this all the time.”

\-- 

“So. Matteo.”

David’s head snapped up. Laura was grinning. He ducked his head, a blush rising on his cheeks.

“What about him?” he said.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

David shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Laura frowned, walking over from behind the kitchen counter and joining him at the table. “What do you mean? He hasn’t asked you out?”

“Not really. We’re just...hanging out.”

“Hanging out.” She slurped her coffee, raising an eyebrow. “He’s over here all the time, eating our food, I can’t get you to do your chores when you’re in your room kissing the whole day--”

“I don’t know, okay?”

“Have you told him?”

David glared at her even though he was more frustrated with himself. “No. I haven’t told him.” 

Laura sighed. “Okay. Like, I get it.”

“I really like him,” he muttered. “I don’t want to mess things up.”

“I get it, David. And you won’t. You tell him when you’re ready.” She paused to sip her coffee. “But please don’t wait too long. I like him, too.”

David smiled, unable to help himself. “You don’t mind that he eats all our food?”

“At least he likes my roast chicken.”

“That’s because you both overseason meat!”

“What do you know? You can’t cook.”

Still smiling, David got up from the table and stalked away to his room, shaking his head. Right before he closed the door, Laura called out, “Why don’t you invite Matteo over and I can make chicken for dinner!” 

He rolled his eyes and did just that.

\-- 

David thought it was all over when Matteo invited him to have dinner with his parents. He was sure Matteo thought it wasn’t that big of a deal; he joined David and Laura for dinner all the time. But parents were different. _Meeting the parents._ It implied something more permanent. More familiar. And Matteo felt so, so familiar, but David wasn’t sure he was ready.

He’d avoided talking to Matteo--really talking to Matteo--for so long now, and quite skillfully, all things considered. And physically, well, Matteo never pushed him too far. Or at all. He was so gentle, so curious but careful and patient. It made David’s heart break.

David groaned, burying his face in his pillow. Why did he have to make everything so complicated? This shouldn’t have been something to worry about, really. But doubt seeped in, and David was fucked.

He couldn’t do this anymore.

\-- 

He ignored his phone for two days, pretending he was sick. On the third day, he actually got sick, and Laura went to work late to feed him tomato soup and comb his hair. She frowned when he told her he hadn’t talked to Matteo in days.

“Has he talked to you?”

He turned over in bed so his back was facing her and stayed there until she left, not wanting her to see him cry.

David checked his phone on the fourth day, scrolling through missed calls from work to find eighteen texts from Matteo.

_hey, where are you? i’ve been asking around and no one has seen u._

_are u ok?_

_are we still meeting up on friday?_

_i heard u were sick. can i come over & make sandwiches for u?_

_david.._

_david david david_

_ok. i’ll leave u alone for now_

_i can’t leave u alone. i miss u :(_

_if ur still coming to dinner tomorrow, i’ll bring u flowers_

_it’s totally ok if u can’t come though if ur too sick_

_hey i’m worried. did i say something wrong?_

_i can’t wait to see u_

_pls tell me if i can come over_

_laura said i can’t come over :( too sick_

_i hope ur not too sick for kisses_

_would it be too embarrassing to kiss in front of my parents?_

_if u need more time i can postpone?_

_david :( pls answer. i’ll see u tomorrow, ok?_

David stared at the messages until his eyes watered. _I miss u too.._ he almost typed, but stopped himself. He didn’t want to get Matteo’s hopes up.

Today was Friday. He glanced at the time on his phone. 14:51. He’d agreed to meet Matteo at his flatshare for dinner at 18:00. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what to wear. And what are you supposed to say to the fairly religious parents of a boy you’ve had a number of unholy dreams about? What if they asked questions? David didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel numb.

He threw his phone to the foot of his bed, flopped over on his stomach, and fell into the deepest sleep he’d had that week.

\-- 

When David woke up, it was uncomfortably dark. He shuffled off of the bed, still in his jeans and sweatshirt, and switched on his desk lamp. He glanced at the clock and his heart sank. 20:28. Half of him had been hoping he would wake up in time to give Matteo any indication of whether or not he would be able to make it to dinner. He was considering going back to bed and forgetting about everything for a while until he grabbed his phone and read Matteo’s texts.

_david.. ur late_

_my parents are gone now_

_if u haven’t given up on me yet, i’m still here_

David pulled on his sneakers and was out the door in seconds.

\-- 

“Hey.” 

Matteo looked good. Really good. David wondered if he’d gotten dressed up for him.

“Hi.” 

“I’ve been waiting.”

David ducked his head instinctively. His eyes burned. “I know. I’m sorry. I wanted to come.”

“What’s wrong?” Matteo stepped forward until there were inches of space between their noses, and David fought the urge to jerk away. 

He hated that Matteo knew there was something wrong. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to talk about _anything._

He shook his head, heaving in a shaky breath. He met Matteo’s eyes, slowly, slowly. He managed to get out, “I’m all wrong,” before crumbling. 

Matteo caught him before he hit the hardwood floor, wrapping his arms around his middle gently. They were sprawled in the doorway of the apartment, David’s head on Matteo’s lap barely crossing the threshold. Minutes that felt like hours passed, Matteo threading a hand through David’s hair while he cried and rubbing his back with the other while murmuring things into his ear that made David’s heart hurt.

“You’re everything,” Matteo whispered. “You’re _not_ all wrong. You’re… beautiful and insanely talented and your presence makes everything so much brighter. I wish you could hear the things my friends say about you. I wish you could see yourself the way I do. You deserve the world, David.”

David sat up a little, ducking his head. His voice came out ragged and more desperate than he’d meant it to. “I wish I could be more. There are so many things I want to say to you, but I can’t.”

“And that’s okay. I’ll wait for you. I’ll always wait for you.”

And he took his chin in his hand, lifting it up so that David could look at him through teary eyelashes. To his astonishment, Matteo’s eyes were wet, too.

“...Because I love you.”

“Matteo.” David’s heart was breaking. “I’m trans.”

Matteo faltered for a moment; then the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, and I love you.” His smile grew wider. “Thank you for telling me.”

David shook his head, sitting up completely. “You’re...okay with it? With me?”

“I’m more than okay with you, dumbass.” He poked David’s cheek. “It doesn’t affect how I feel. And whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m comfortable with. Did I mention that I love you?”

David leaned in, his heart soaring, and kissed Matteo. He took his face in his hands, tracing Matteo’s ears. He didn’t think it was possible to feel this way. For anyone to feel this way about him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

~

“I think it’s called ‘hiraeth,’” David said, making Matteo giggle.

He propped himself up on an elbow, lying on Matteo’s bed, and Matteo did the same, looking at him fondly and slightly amused. 

“Hiraeth. I’ll have to look that one up.”

“You know, I think you’d get it.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You get me, after all.”

Matteo scrunched up his nose and tried to hide a blush. “Aw, honey.” He poked David’s cheek, and David caught his finger, intertwining their hands so he could kiss Matteo’s knuckles. 

David shifted to lie on his back and bit his lip. “It’s like...missing someplace that you’re not sure exists. Homesickness. But you don’t know where home is.” He could feel Matteo watching him curiously.

“And you said you feel like that a lot?”

David thought about that. He shook his head, smiling up at Matteo. “Not anymore.”

And Matteo’s eyes softened and he looked at David like That and David reached up, pulling Matteo on top of him. Just because he could. 

They kissed lazily until David felt lightheaded, and Matteo beamed down at him.

“Are you saying I’m your home, Schreibner?”

“Shut up.”

“Love you too.” He shifted off of David’s chest, resisting David’s grabby hands trying to pull him back. “I’m going to bring us some breakfast. I’m starving, aren’t you?”

“No,” David said immediately, but he realized he _was_ hungry. The two of them had been lying in bed for hours, and even though it was well past noon now, neither of them had eaten since waking up. “Well, okay. Make us some pancakes and strawberries. Don’t forget the whipped cream.”

Matteo rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the bed. “I’m not making any promises.”

When he was gone, a smile tickled David’s cheeks. What the fuck. What the fuck was his life right now. 

This was better than his dreams, more colorful than his hopeful sketches and more full of emotion and something else David didn’t completely understand but wanted to. He was in _love_. And he loved it. That was what surprised him. No matter how much he had craved it, he’d never thought he would enjoy being with someone this deeply. 

There is no permanent state of self, David knew, and yet, he couldn’t imagine a phase in the rest of his life not spent loving Matteo.

**Author's Note:**

> my first work! thank u for reading! i wrote this in the hopes that i would get back into writing for fun :) the title is from a song, 'on love (an alternative response to almitra's request)' by ritt momney. feel free to message me at metaphoric-blast on tumblr! comments are appreciated <3


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